Pookie
by spottedhorse
Summary: Brass and Catherine are involved in a case when someone from his past peeks Catherine's interest.


Jim Brass had just arrived at the scene and was walking across the parking lot when he saw the dark Denali of Catherine Willows pull in. He decided to wait and as she descended the vehicle, he joined her for the walk into the building. "What do we have?" she asked him, very businesslike.

"I'm not sure…just got here myself. Mitch called it in. Said we have a DB and some very upset ladies on our hands."

"Ladies," Catherine asked, glancing at the commercial looking building.

"Ah yeah…our DB is one of the girls that works here. And here is a house…or should I say warehouse, of ill repute."

Her head spun towards him, her jaw dropping. "A whorehouse? Here?"

"Guess the rent was right," he shrugged as he held the door open for her to enter. On the inside, they were greeted by Officer Mitchell, or Mitch as everyone called him. "The dead girl is over there," he pointed. "And I have Johnson holding the girls in the office…over there." Jim nodded as Catherine thanked him. The pair moved towards the DB first.

Crouched over the body was the assistant coroner, David Phillips. "Hey David," Catherine said. "You beat me here…"

He looked up and grinned. "I had just finished at Nick's scene and sent that body back. I was closer."

Jim could tell that he was pleased with beating the CSI to the scene. His eyes twinkled at the hint of competition that was happening. Catherine glanced up at Jim and then back at the body. "You ready for me, David?"

"It'll be a few minutes, Catherine. I just got here."

"Oh okay. Well, let me know…" Her eyes were already circling the body, looking for clues. Jim had spent about all the time he cared to close to the corpse and looked towards the office. "Think I'll go start with the girls," he said. "I'll go with…" Catherine said and she fell into step beside him.

They made it to office, which had about a dozen "girls" lounging on chairs and couches. All were only half dressed and looked ready for business. Jim scanned the group and heard a sigh from his companion. "Now I know why they set up shop here," she mused.

"Yeah," he nodded. "All past their prime…all downhill from here…" he added.

They had talked to several of the girls and gotten no useful information when he moved to the back of the room to a woman sitting in a chair. She was a red head, maybe even natural, had very light skin with freckles, and was smoking a cigarette. Her blue eyes flashed with recognition when she saw Jim approach. Catherine had finished talking to a woman close by and followed Jim to the back.

"I'm Detective…"

"Jimmy Brass," she finished for him in a deep throaty voice. It sounded almost hoarse now but once, it had probably been very seductive, thought Catherine as her eyes shot towards Jim. _But she knows him…_

Jim tilted his head, trying to recognize the woman, remember where he would have met her that she would recognize him. _Maybe she saw me sometime on one of the news reports, _he decided.

"Yeah, um…I'd like to ask a few questions about…."

"Oh come on, Pookie…you remember me, don't you? It's me…Doris," she said with a thick New Jersey accent. She was all smiles, as if greeting an old friend.

Catherine swallowed laughter. _Pookie? This case is interesting all of a sudden…_

Jim blinked, then blanched, then turned red. "Doris? Uh…it's been …awhile…"

"Too long, Baby. I've…um…missed you." She said huskily. Her eyes scanned him from head to toe, lingering over a strategic area.

Jim turned so red that Catherine thought he was going to have a stroke. She was still struggling to not laugh and didn't dare say anything. "She is not a…um….She's a CSI, Crime Scene Investigator…a colleague….nobody's replacement," he growled.

Doris looked from detective to CSI knowingly. "Whatever you say, Pookie," she smiled and winked.

That was it; Catherine lost it and started laughing. Jim threw his hands in the air, looked to heaven for help and walked away.

Somehow, the two investigators managed to work the scene without getting near one another again, but every time Catherine looked in his direction, she started giggling. Jim just rolled his eyes, turned red, and put his head down. Finally, they were both finished and as Catherine closed up her kit Jim was telling the "ladies" not to leave town and that he would probably need to talk to them again as the investigation continued. "Anytime, Pookie," the throaty voice answered, carrying out over the building for all to hear. Jim hustled to get to his car before anyone could say anything.

Back at the lab, Catherine was going over the evidence when she discovered blood on the gun that they believed was used to shoot the victim. One of the uniforms found it outside the building as they walked the perimeter. Bobby was waiting on the bullet from the autopsy to make a comparison. The women claimed to have seen nothing, which Catherine doubted, but so far they had held to their story. So everything depended on the evidence.

Later in the shift, she was sitting at her desk, going over more forms that Ecklie seemed to generate. Jim appeared in her doorway. "Anything on the case yet?" he asked.

Catherine looked up from the latest form. "Not yet, Pookie…" she giggled.

Jim stepped into the office and closed the door. He was grinning but his ears were a bright red. Catherine always knew when something got to him because his ears would turn red. She waited for his response.

"I suppose I should have known it isn't over yet," he shrugged.

"So what's the story?"

He tilted his head, taking on his impish look that he often wore when he was up to something. "What story?" he teased.

"The story behind Pookie?" Catherine's tone told him that she was losing patience.

Jim chuckled. "Who says there is a story?"

"Oh come on, Jim. An over the hill prostitute calls you Pookie and seems to know you, very well …and you say there is no story? You know I'll find out. You might as well fess up."

Jim sat in the chair across from her and grinned. "Maybe I should let you wonder. You're probably thinking of all kinds of things that are far more interesting than the real thing."

"Okay, enough….now give."

Jim glanced at his watch. "Tell ya what. How 'bout I take ya to breakfast after shift and I'll tell you everything. I'll even answer your questions…"

Catherine smiled. "Breakfast sounds like a good idea. I'll call you?"

"Yeah, okay. So….later, then." Catherine watched as he headed out, smiling and wondering about Pookie.

A few hours later, Catherine was on the phone with Jim. "Instead of going out for breakfast, I have a better idea," she said. An hour and a half later, they were huddled around her kitchen table, savoring the last few sips of coffee in their cups, when Catherine got to the point. "Okay Pookie, the rest of the story…" Her eyebrows were raised over an amused look.

Jim grinned. "It really isn't that interesting…"

"So why all the mystery?"

Jim shrugged. "It…well, it just brings up a time I'd rather forget. I met Doris when I was back in Jersey…working vice, you know. I needed cover…a known prostitute that I could use as …well, you know, to make me seem more credible on the street. I'd pay her for some time and then sit in her place and watch hockey or something…"

Catherine's eyebrows shot up. "You paid a prostitute?"

"Well…yeah, in the line of duty, ya know. I mean, I had to look the part. I bought drugs too but never took any…just acted the part."

"Never? No drugs ever?"

"Well, a little pot maybe, but that was it. I'd seen too much to let myself go down the drain that way. It was kind of …, you know, tricky at times, keeping up the image but not really indulging."

Catherine assessed her friend with new respect. She'd known that he had spent time in Vice but hadn't considered what a tight rope he had walked. Most Vice cops that she'd known crossed the line at some point; somehow, Jim had managed to keep his integrity. "So you hired Doris?"

"Yeah…it worked for both of us…gave her some easy money and a break from her usual business and it gave me a cover. Plus it was a little added protection for her; the guys at the precinct knew she was my cover and left her alone and guys on the street knew she was my favorite whore…"

"Unh-huh…right…" she drawled. "And you never…indulged?" Catherine was smirking now.

Jim shrugged. "I um…well, I've never been one for sloppy seconds, if you know what I mean…"

Catherine's eyes widened and then she nodded, understanding his point. "All that money to sit and watch hockey?" She laughed.

He shrugged and smiled. "I like hockey."

"She seemed…quite fond of you," she smiled.

"I suppose…look it isn't really that…"

"Seriously Jim, you _never_ slept with her?"

He was in mid sip and nearly spat the warm liquid as she asked her question. "Only once," he finally admitted after a deep sigh.

Catherine's eyes narrowed as she looked at Jim, his eyes cast down at the table in front of him, his expression forlorn and sad. His whole body seemed to sag. "I'm sorry, Jim…I pushed to hard, pried where I had no business…"

She could see his effort to push back some dark emotion and bring balance back to his demeanor. Finally, he looked at her and shrugged. "I um…there was a reason…not a good one, but…"

She covered his hand on the table with hers. "It is okay, Jim. You don't have to explain. We've all done things we'd rather forget about."

He studied his mug for a few minutes, seemingly at war within himself. Finally, he twitched and then sighed. "It was the night Nancy told me about Ellie…," he disclosed.

Catherine frowned. This piece didn't fit the puzzle that was Jim Brass. "Wait…your wife tells you that she is having your baby and you go celebrate with a whore? That's doesn't sound like you, Jim."

He looked around the room, as if searching for something, perhaps an escape hatch. "It…she didn't…she told me the truth about Ellie…"

"The truth?" Catherine was very confused.

"She was angry, really pissed, you know. And I don't know, I said something off handed that made her even madder. And then she blurted it out. Catherine, Ellie's not my kid…at least, not biologically." Catherine stared in stunned silence.

"Nancy had a thing with…another cop and he, they…well, Ellie is his."

"How long?"

"What?" He asked quizzically.

"How long after she was born did your ex tell you?"

"Ellie was about…five or six," he answered, as his eyes looked up, seeking relief from the stress of the moment.

"Jim, I'm sorry, really sorry. I made you…"

Putting his hand up to stop her, he winced. "No, it's okay. I've wanted to tell you for awhile because…well," he shrugged, "I just did."

That night, Catherine continued her investigation as Jim followed some leads that the evidence had uncovered. Early the next morning she appeared at his office door. "Hey Pookie," she said with a smirk.

Jim looked up and sighed. "I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" He grinned.

"Oh, eventually I'll let you off the hook. And speaking of…we need to interview your hooker again."

"Doris? Why?"

"Seems she had a grudge against her co-worker. And we found a lipstick smudge on the vic's clothes that matches her shade and manufacturer."

Jim swiped his face with his hand and let out a sigh. "Okay. I'll have Mitch locate her and bring her in."

"You'll call me when she gets here?"

"Yeah…"

"And Jim, should another detective be in on the interview; I mean… with your history with her and all…."

"Yeah, you're right," he nodded. "I'll see if Vartann or Vega is available. But stay off the Pookie stuff, will ya? I'd never hear the end of it."

Catherine laughed. "Buy me breakfast?"

"It's a small price to pay," he smiled. "But let's get this interview over first."

"See you later." And she was gone.

A few hours later, Catherine sat across the table from Doris with Detective Vega. She'd brought Vega up to speed on the case and mentioned that Brass had known the woman in Jersey and so had recused himself. "Yeah," Vega nodded, "he told me."

Now Vega was doing the questioning as Catherine watched the other woman's reactions. Midway through, there was a tap on the door and an officer stuck his head in, motioning for Vega to come out into the hall. Vega stepped out, nodding to Officer Myra Reynolds, who stood quietly inside the door. Catherine and Doris sat quietly until Doris looked around. "Where's Jimmy?"

"He um…can't be here. Since you know each other from before, he thought it best to let Detective Vega handle things."

"Too bad. I was hoping to catch up."

"You knew Jim well?" Catherine's curiosity was getting the best of her.

"Jimmy's one of the good ones. So many of them cops just wanted a roll in the hay. They'd use us girls for cover and for pleasure and then when we needed them, they were scarce. But Jimmy was different."

Catherine nodded. "He is a good man."

"Even if he wasn't so good…I mean…I'd have covered for him anyway. God, the equipment that man carries…if ya know what I mean."

Catherine glanced quickly at Officer Reynolds as she choked back a disbelieving laugh. "Equipment?"

"You know…_equipment_. And what he can do with it…oh my god. I only got to experience it once, but I'll tell ya…I done a lot o' guys in my time, but I'll never forget him. Damn…makes me all warm and fuzzy jus' to think about it again."

Catherine's eyes grew wide as the full implication of Doris comments settled in. Doris looked at her quizzically. "ah, come on…surly you and he…I mean, you really are his type, ya know."

"I um…never thought of Jim as having a type…and this conversation is way out of line." Again Catherine glanced at the female officer in the room.

"Oh honey. Even if it's only just once in yer lifetime, ya gotta experience Pookie."

Just then the door opened and Vega walked in. "You're free to leave," he said to Doris.

Catherine watched the woman leave and then turned to Vega. "We got the killer," he told her. "It was one of her co-workers. Brass got suspicious when she was spotted boarding a bus. He sent officers after her and when they got her here, she spilled her guts. It was over a john, of course."

Catherine headed for Jim's office. "You solved my case," she said as she walked in.

"No, I solved _my_ case," he smirked.

Catherine gazed into his smoky blue eyes and watched as they twinkled. "I …um…had an interesting conversation with Doris…"

His eyebrows shot up towards his receding hairline. "About the case?"

"No," she said as she tilted her head slightly, the corners of her eyes crinkling with mischief. "About you…"

"Me?" He rolled his eyes, surrendering to whatever came next. "Okay, I'll bite…what kind of interesting conversation about me did you have?"

Fighting to maintain a more serious composure, Catherine kept her eyes off his face. "She um…said that…well she still remembers her night with you and that," Catherine shifted as she assumed a more Doris-like posture, "even if it's only just once in yer lifetime, ya gotta experience Pookie." Unable to conatin it any longer, Catherine began to laugh. "She was very complimentary about your uh…equipment too," she managed through her laughter.

Red crept up Jim's face and into his ears as his eyes widened. "She said that to you?" His voice was incredulous.

"Yeah," she laughed, "and uh….Officer Reynolds was in the room. You'll be," she burst out laughing again, "the talk of the squad room, I'm sure."

"Reynolds was there?" Catherine had never seen him so flustered. All she could do was nod in the affirmative as she struggled to contain her mirth.

"Oh my god…" he groaned. Then suddenly his eyes flashed and he peered into hers. "You um…you…"

"Tell her that I've had the pleasure of the experience?" Her face relaxed as her expression softened. "No…it was none of her business…or Reynolds' for that matter. And besides, I like our little secret," she said.

Jim smiled warmly as he gazed into her eyes. "Yeah…it's kinda nice having you all to myself."

"So, breakfast at your place?" She asked.

Grinning, he replied. "And lunch too…"

BRILLOWSBRILLOWSBRILLOWS

I didn't get to see Hog Heaven, but reading about it on the various fansites kinda got my mind spinning. Hope you enjoyed the result. Please drop me a line and let me know what you think.


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